Friday Fictioneers: Sickly Pale

 

I have come back to the Friday Fictioneers world with much less sleep deprivation, so I think this piece is a bit more coherent. Hey, here’s a twist, I wrote about childhood wonder again!

But this time, it’s SAAAAAAD.

Relatively. Blame OFF, that game gives me bad ideas. Or it just makes me remember all of those ideas I saw in my dreams once and confined to the “I might be clinically insane” bin.

 

On that optimistic note, have fun~

 


 

 

Image copyright: Björn Rudberg

Image copyright: Björn Rudberg

 

Genre: Realistic fiction

Word Count: 114 (I know it’s technically 14 over, but I read a guy’s post today that they “wouldn’t ostracize somebody if they went a few words over.” I’M TRUSTING YOU, WHATEVER YOUR NAME WAS)

 

“But I’m doing better,” he said, half-whining. “I went down the stairs to the garden today. All by myself.”

“My goodness,” the mother said slowly. “Such a strong young man.”

“It’s nice down there,” the boy said. “I really like that big tree that hangs over the wall. It looks better when it has leaves.”

“What’s the matter?” She asked, hearing the sadness in her son’s voice. “Don’t you like this new house? We chose it just for you. So you could see the whole outside world out your window.”

“I wish I could go out and touch it, though.” The boy’s bone-pale fingers flexed at the thought.

“No. No we can’t have that.”

 

 

 

 


 

 

I have no idea what disease the little boy had. I’m going to guess vampirism. Except then he might have just burst into flame when he went down into the garden. Which might have been a bit of a tonality shift, from sober to hilarious.

 

 

Good luck, you brave writer folk!

 

END TRANSMISSION.

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12 comments on “Friday Fictioneers: Sickly Pale

  1. You get stern looks at around 180 words and a pretty good scolding at about 250. 😛

  2. This touch me deeply and I recall stories from my father’s childhood..

    He had to dwell inside having Tuberculosis — looking out the window at two poodles across the street… he created stories from them…

    at that time there were no cure for TB back then.. bur miraculously he recovered…

    • I’m happy to hear that your father recovered from TB- I was actually subconsciously thinking that the boy in the story would in fact have Tuberculosis. However, my knowledge of the disease is rather limited, so I figured I would leave it ambiguous rather than pass my assumptions off as knowledge.

  3. I like the story, but what I like even more is your offhanded intro and the end notes. You are funny!

  4. Maree Gallop says:

    Great story, you’re right though it is sad. Well written.

  5. Dear Michael,

    interesting tale. I agree with Björn…perhaps TB or Leukemia which would make him bruise at the slightest touch.

    No, you won’t be ostracized for 14 words over, but I’ll bet if you look at it again you can find ways to trim it up. 😉

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  6. Maybe I’ve been reading too much Sandra Crook lately (she submitted first this week and can write killer – pun intended – psychological thrillers), but I kind of wondered about the mother, too. Is the boy legitimately sick, or is Mommy a wee bit psychotically overprotective… Good story, either way!

  7. Michael, Sad but good story, and well written. I hope some day his health improves. It’s hard for a child to be ill like that. 🙂 —Susan

  8. […] so close to that 100-word mark! Oh well, I kind of stopped caring as much since my first brush with literary […]

  9. […] And that’s weird for me! I’m usually so upbeat, talking about such lovely subjects as debilitating illness, anxiety, and crippling insanity. But death? Please, I have my […]

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